Welcome to Watch Tower
by Pomsterr
Summary: Everyone talks about Oliver Queen, but no one knows him. Everyone wants to be seen with him, but no one has seen the real him. This is Oliver Queen uncut, just as he is. Coping with the world after revealing Green Arrow's identity.
1. Chapter 1

The blade cut his face again and the alcohol from the after shave burned it. He flung the razor across the room and broke the vase Clark had gifted him. Great. Now everyone's going to think I can't even shave myself, let alone being able to look after an entire city. Or the women are going to think I'm so stupid, they'll start throwing themselves at me like a freaking football. That wasn't the end of it. He stubbed his toe on the kerb and shouted out in annoyance, "Stupid bastard pavement!" A little child looked up at him, perplexed while its mother reacted with tuts of disapproval. Paprazzi jumped from behind the bins and grimaced, intrusively shoving the cameras in his face. The perpetual irritations in Oliver Queen's life began to intensify as he stupidly revealed himself as the Green Arrow.

"Why on Earth would you be so idiotic Oliver?" Bart asked.

"Why on Earth have you been reading the dictionary Bartholomew?" was his response. Little did Bart know, it was for a little thing called Chloe Sullivan? She decided to swallow a pill to save his worthless butt, and then never show her face again. The bloody cheek, he thought, how could she do this to me? Am I selfish in thinking she is being so utterly greedy? Keeping herself to herself and not sharing with me. It's preposterous that I should feel this way.

"Hey Gay Arrow! Why don't you slip on something a little more fitting and flash us a lovely smile?"

Oliver cringed internally as he put on his sun glasses and walked into his tinted car as calmly as calm could go. Stupid Inquisitor paparazzi concocted a stupid story where apparently, Oliver had been abducted by aliens from Mars and had dedicated his life to saving the 'people' in it ever since. "God damned fools" he said to himself.

"Talking to yourself; first sign of madness."

He whipped his head up to see whose voice that remark belonged to, but no one was there. He willed himself not to think who it was, although the voice was painfully recognisable. Given the oddity of the situation, Oliver poured himself a large glass of whisky and gave directions to the driver. Another evening drew close and so did another crucifying ball. The leathered men with bimbos at their sides, over prescribed caviar, and alcohol in abundance was not Oliver's idea of a good night. But since the revelation people looked to him as if he was an urban Jesus and he couldn't refuse. Flocks of them herded around Oliver asking endless number of questions, to which he answered half heartedly and in a daze. Nothing in his life was personal anymore. He couldn't get intimate with anyone without having it plastered across the front pages the following day. He tolerated the weight and smacked on a permanent smile on his face, waiting for the minute it turned nine so he could pounce at the opportunity to drive off to his empty home. After being partially blinded by dozens of cameras, Oliver hopped on his motor bike and quickly drove to his apartment. It was immaculately kept with trendy furniture and snobbishly haughty upholstery, but it just didn't feel right. Oliver stripped out of his stiff suit into something a little more comfortable and sat on the cold floor. He waited for something to stir, a sound to be heard or even a cool breeze to caress his skin; something that would make him feel alive. But nothing happened; he sat in pin drop silence futilely waiting to feel human. She needs to be here by my side really. I don't want anyone here except for her. No facades or frills or glazing, just me and her cuddled up in front of the television. I see her in my mind, I feel her on my skin but the second my eyes open my heart beats irregularly missing the presence of its other half. Warm tears dripped on Oliver's cheek as he realised for the first time in two months and twenty days, he would feel utterly alone for the rest of his life. Without Chloe, what is the point of having things and living in nice places? None at all. Mind over matter is bull shit. I can't keep her out of my head or my home or from every cell in my body. Frantically, Oliver packed his essentials and drove to Watch Tower in his neighbour's car wearing sweat pants, a hoody and a pair of sneakers. The elevator was rickety and the security system was below substandard. The smell of Tess Mercer's perfume lingered in the air as Oliver's nostrils flared naturally, his body not used to the scent of the place it was so used to. "Oliver?"

He spun around and saw Mercer's long legs hovering above his head. "What are you doing up there?" he accused. That's where Chloe and I talk. He didn't mean to sound angry, but he did. "I was just admiring the view. Sorry." Her heavy heels clanked down the stairs as a smiling face hovered on Oliver's. Her eyes were green too, but not the same. They didn't dazzle or glimmer; they just cautioned and repelled any form of emotion. It's not the same. Without Chloe, it's just not the same.

"What happened to cutting yourself off from your hero pals and places?" Tess asked.

"I'm not patrolling this weekend so I though I'd just spend some time with Wa- spend some time here." Tess nodded, as if she understood what he actually meant. A bitter chuckle was balanced in Oliver's throat, but he forced it down to protect their 'friendship'. Throughout the night, Tess worked relentlessly to upgrade the security and polish the inside of Watch Tower. She noticed Oliver watch her like a hawk, but brushed it off by avoiding his glares. Why is she ordering cream paint? Chloe likes it the way it is…No no no! Bio analysis is better than cognitive. Oliver watched Tess until she left at four in the morning. The sun's rays were gently warming the sky and the sky line was slowly coming to life. "Bye Oliver."

Finally I can _be_ in Watch tower, he thought. He made a pot of coffee and sat on the couch upstairs. Oliver closed his eyes and remembered himself three months ago.

"_Oliver?"_

"_Hmm?"_

"_That thing you did should be illegal." Chloe traced his chest with her small fingers while Oliver looked outside the large window feeling content. "Do you want me to do it again?" he asked impishly. Before she could even respond, he went under the covers and tickled her relentlessly. "No stop it Ollie! Oliver! Stop!" Chloe giggled ceaselessly, kicking the blanket off their naked bodies. Tell me you love me, Oliver thought, just tell me you love me you stubborn woman. Then, a sudden clanging of metal came from downstairs. "Welcome to Watch Tower Mr. Kent."_

"_Aw crap, it's Clark!" she cried out, heaving from the laughter. Oliver hushed her lips and shouted, "Clark! Come back in ten man, there's been a bathroom spillage." Which was the unspoken code for "I'm having sex with your best friend; Get. Out." Oliver turned back to Chloe and pounced on the couch, "Where were we Mr. Arrow?"_

The sun shone brilliantly and illuminated the room with colours of blue and red and green. His eyes opened, unlocking the sadness that was kept in for so long. It wasn't just a physical thing. I love her. "I love you Chloe Sullivan. Stop being selfish and come back."

The familiar sound of the elevator droned in his ears;

"Welcome to Watch Tower Miss Sullivan."

* * *

NOTE: Just something I wrote an hour ago. If you want me to continue, let me know : )


	2. Chapter 2

He stopped breathing as the lithe foot steps drew nearer and grew louder. Oliver's ear drums crashed loudly against the pulses of his veins. If I have died, please God- if you exist- let me see her face. Then I'd have died happy. Oliver shot up from the bed and leapt down the stairs, as if an electric shot had dashed through his body.

"Chloe?" he whispered tenderly, coaxing him self to break free of the hallucination. "Is that you baby?" A scoff came from under the low ceiling, the sound was covered by a shadow. Chloe doesn't like being called 'baby'. Maybe it's really her! After four long strides, his legs stopped and his heels had firmly rooted to the floor. Closing his eyes, Oliver's arms reached out to her shoulders and pulled her towards his body. "It's you!" he crooned, "It's really you!"

"Oliver?" she whimpered first, "Where's The Blur? I know you know him." Chloe's voice was full of accusation and a hint of contempt. " 'The Blur'? Why are you calling Cl-" She knows him too. Why is she asking me who he… this wasn't Chloe, it was her clone. This isn't Chloe. "You're not Chloe Sullivan are you?" The clone said nothing. "ARE YOU?" he bellowed with white, hot rage. This was followed by a wave confusion and self doubt. His fumbling hands held a large knife to her chest as he felt her skin. "You feel the same. Tell me why you feel the same." Oliver said, pulling the clone towards him and crushing his lips against hers. Trying to wring out a reaction. The clone stood still, not a single nerve twitched, nor a single strand of hair stirred. "Why don't you feel?" Oliver cried out in disgust, "Where's the real Chloe?"

"She is dead, and you will be too." The clone snarled savagely and lunged at Oliver's neck with a small Swiss knife. Instinctively, he pierced the blade through the clone's chest. He ran to the sink and began vomiting ruthlessly until he heard the it speak again; "It's me Oliver…they put a chip in my body that controls what I say and do. I tried to over power it but-" she took one last breath of air, then slumped back on to the floor. Oliver's vision became blurry as he thrashed across the room towards the bleeding body. "What have I done?" he sobbed. "WHAT HAVE I DONE?"

* * *

"Oliver?" Clark shook him, "Oliver wake up."

From head to toe, he was covered in sweat, his pallid face was glistening with tears and his palms were bleeding because his nails were still dug in them. Tess held his hands and gently loosened them apart. "It's okay, you fell asleep Oliver. Sshh. It's okay." He didn't want her to, but she cradled his head in her arms gingerly as if he was on the verge of detonating. Stop it! I don't want you to comfort me, stop feeling sorry for me! But she continued to do so until he stopped shuddering. "Are you okay now?" Clark asked his eye brows filled with concern. "Yes I'm fine. Just a stupid nightmare; how wimpy am I?" Oliver chuckled nervously. I hate this. Feeling so naked, I just hate it! Their reproachful eyes and concerned faces told the pain of Oliver Queen, and he saw it too. Is this how I'm damned to live? Sympathy and sadness and- and solitude? Clark and Tess formed an alliance and conversed intensely in the corner while Oliver opened his palms and cleaned the blood. Soon after that, he asked Clark to take him to Luthor Corp.

"Are you sure you want to work? I thought you had the weekend off?"

"I'm CEO so I choose when I work", he said gritting his teeth. Clark was beginning to wear on him. "Just let me cope with this _my _way okay? I don't need baby sitting or anything."

In a blink of an eye, he appeared in the office startling an unsuspecting secretary. "Mr Queen!" she wasn't supposed to be here, but who cared? Oliver merely nodded at her direction and slammed the door shut. You have got to get a grip. Chloe isn't coming back; just deal with it! But how could he? It was obvious. Oliver Queen could not deal with the fact that Chloe didn't want to come back to him. He walked into the shower and ran the hot water. The water loosened his stiff shoulders and moulded the taut muscles back to its supple self. "Next time Chloe, you could just ask _me_", Oliver whispered quietly as he let the sensuous lather wash the events of the morning right away. Grabbing the robe on his way out, Oliver switched the TV on to see the latest frenzy in the media world. "It has been reported that The Bermuda Triangle's waters have been infected by dangerous radioactive waste from no other than Queen Industries. Oliver Queen has not been seen in the past twenty four hours and is said to be in hiding. His right hand people have been contacting lawyers and demanding that the company should be treated innocent until proven guilty. Their research scientists are there right this moment trying to figure out where the waste had leaked out from. Is this really what the world needs now? It seems as if Green Arrow isn't so green after all."

"Bull shit!" he shouted, "Absolute nonsense! Why does everyone believe The Inquisitor's cock and bull story?" Oliver was fuming with anger as the geeks from the ocean tried to explain. "You see Sir, Queen Industries is only company to use a different substance for energy, which produces the radioactive waste of Rhodium. It's difficult to understand at this point how the un-neutralised waste could have leaked thousands of miles from Alaska. Admin have checked and rechecked to see whether the maintenance of the power plants had been unsupervised, but everything is as it should be." Great. While he was 'coping' with his _feelings_, the whole world was pointing fingers at him for polluting the waters. Oliver dialled A.C's number and waited for him to pick up. He did a double take when he was greeted with a "Tell me this isn't true!" In disbelief that A.C would even have to ask, Oliver began shouting things like, "of course it's not! What do you take me for? I have wastage plans already, tell me _why_ I'd want to ruin a harmless part of the world!" Little outbursts of anger became more frequent, followed by shaking hands and chattering jaws. "Calm down Oliver! Why are you screwing at me?" A.C exclaimed in surprise. "You've just accused my company of dumping crap into the ocean because _you_ have some freaky fetish for fish!" I can't believe he thought I'd take it on the chin and brush it off! There was a momentary silence before A.C spoke again, feeling the tension across the phone line. "I didn't even say anything man. Not a single word…I know it wasn't Queen Industries or Luthercorp because I've been keeping tabs on all major companies. What's wrong Oliver?" his voice was full of pity. Oliver's lip curled viciously as he blocked the words he so wanted to scream out; stop feeling sorry for me! "I'm sorry A.C. My head's just not in the right place at the moment", he said blankly, without even a hint of sincerity. Then he simply hung up. It was noon by the time he'd finished his research and briefing the employees. The sun's blinding light became an annoyance so the blinds were kept shut throughout the day. In a whirlpool of paper work, press conferences and meetings with the President, Oliver hadn't even had a chance to eat as he noticed his stomach grumbling violently. The secretary whose name he didn't bother to learn, brought some food in and left the room without glancing at Oliver's direction. He furrowed his eye brows in confusion as to why his horny assistant felt repulsed by him. Suddenly, he caught his own reflection on the knife and saw a gaunt and emotionless man looking back at him. Yes, his face was shaven and his skin was immaculate, but those eyes held nothing. They used to be warm and brown, but now they were hard and black. He thought he looked like a mad man. But I'm not going mad, Oliver thought, this is silly, and I am NOT going mad.

"Second sign of madness; **denial**."

NOTE: I've been studying hard for A-level exams that I wrote this in a rush. I don't know where this story is going, just keep reading.


End file.
